In two weeks I'll be remembering my daughter, Angel. March 27th would have been her 40th birthday. A terrible waste. She shot herself and I will never know the tipping point, the trigger within her teenage angst that caused her to end her life.
I think of Angel when I think of the US military attacks on nations in the Middle East, Iraq, Aphganistan, Pakistan and all the dead infants, children and teens. This includes the loss of young American lives too. I think of Angela when I see the earnest young fighters and farmers - mouning parents in Gaza. And the dead around the world because of our country's military, economic and corporate interests. I grieve for the dead, for the young lives wasted and destroyed. Dick Cheyney lives and that is all kinds of wrong.
Tonight the following tribute to the growing numbers of dead in Chicago moved me to tears. Oh, and it is in part because this very theme moved my Angela like no other. The racism in the United States is our national shame.